RRH
by Loaniss
Summary: A land ruled by Kings and Queens. The minority are countries and more are simply untouched. The countries that inhabited by humans are Briton, Irland, Dutchland, Polan, Italie and Spaine. In the Untouched Lands reside the forest folk.


**RRH**

**A land ruled by Kings and Queens****. The minority are countries and more are simply untouched. **

**The countries tha****t inhabited by humans are Briton, Irland, Dutchland, Polan, Italie and Spaine. In the Untouched Lands reside the forest folk, walking talking beasts. Their lord resides in the lands Czech Republic and Slovakia.**

In Poland, the heiress to the throne finds a letter on her bedside table when she wakes.

_My dear daughter Rosalyn,_

_I am writing to you to tell grave news. The Cookies have descended onto Poland. As you know, the Cookies must be given to the oldest reigning monarch at the time of its arrival. You know who that is. I am placing the job of taking it to her on you. _

_May the Lord of Luck be on your side,_

_Your mother, _

_Venus._

That had been the fifth time Rosalyn read the letter.

Her hazel eyes reached the bottom of the page. Her long, autumn brown hair fell off her shoulders and slid down to her chest. She looked out the window of her quarters. The sun's light glazed over her face that the goddess of beauty would be proud of.

Rosalyn's brown eyes filled with tears as she stared over her mother's kingdom, her thoughts often wondered where her beloved mother had disappeared to. She was needed. Her knowledge always made the next step so obvious.

But now wasn't the time for tears. Rosalyn swallowed coming tears, brushed away the ones that managed to escape and headed into the main castle. If she was to go on a journey, she needed to be well prepared.

"Your horse is ready, your highness," the maid said after taking a short bow.

"Thank you. I am grateful," Rosalyn nodded as she adjusted the red cloak upon her shoulders.

The news of her departure from the castle could not fall onto the people's ears, or their faith would surely collapse. The plan was to dress as an inconspicuous travelling merchant, and to hope for the best from there. To get rid of any worry, she looked in the mirror and barely recognised herself: that was a good sign. She was to travel alone and not to be recognised. It was the best way.

"Your highness, everything is in check. The Cookies have been placed in the carriage." The maid said as she reappeared and bowed.

Rosalyn nodded.

The morning was a fine morning to begin to travel. The sun was seen in the breaks of the clouds, the birds were heard singing their daily chorus and the people, her people, were beginning their day. Seeing them was an emotional blow to her. Hiding from them was hard as Rosalyn was sure they would not even think of doing the same to her. She looked ahead, not allowing any second-thoughts to seep in.

Rosalyn hearing suddenly became focused on the smallest things; her own footsteps, the sound of her rapier rattling in its scabbard, the sharp bangs of horse taking its might steps. She tried to drown the sound in her own thoughts. Was she well equipped? She wasn't too fond of using a rapier, however she was skilled in using one and it sufficient for self-defence while on the road; any bigger might give her away, any smaller may not be enough.

From here, Rosalyn had no more attendants to help her or to inform her of events that was happening elsewhere. Now she was alone, something she was going to be for a long time: a daunting thought. She climbed up and sat atop of the carriage, overseeing her surroundings. The city's doors took their time to open, but got there in the end.

The next few days of travelling were rough. Though the emotional wounds were healing, the fact that Rosalyn was fending for herself was tough, but not as difficult as it first seemed. The horse, her only means of travel, was causing her grief; running away during the course of the night, rummaging through food she had stored away for another meal in the day or the worst case just not budging when it the time to move on.

She had a clear map of the whole of the human lands. She was to head to the northern coast then head west to Dutchland. Then after stocking up on essentials she would head further west into the Forest of France: The biggest challenge on her journey.

Sunset had come on the sixth day. Rosalyn was quickly getting used to living on the road; setting up camp became routine and was less annoying, she had also become quite accustomed to hunting. Though she didn't have anything apart from her hands, fishing pole and dagger, she thought she did pretty well. Tonight's meal consisted of cooked rat, fish and mixed-berries for dessert.

She tucked into it. The rat was tough, dry and a little burnt, but wasn't so bad once she got used to the after taste. After picking off all the flesh she could, she stared on the fish. Removing the scales and innards wasn't as stomach turning as she was told. Removing the large bones was frustrating; most of the time she got the bones, plus large amounts of precious flesh, but managed it in the end. After deciding whether to cook it or not, she decided just the give it some colour, by heating it on some stones. By no means was it on the same level as the fish dishes back at the castle, but it was miles better than the rat.

It was during these times her mind would wonder to her memories and think of all the different times she had in the white stone castle of her and her mother's.

One time that sticks to her mind was the night of Halloween, and Rosalyn wanted to attend a friend's party, but her mother declined. The decade younger Rosalyn was reduced to tears and ran to her room. When she woke from the nap after crying herself to sleep she found the castle had been decorated with all sort of Halloween goodies. As Rosalyn travelled through the halls in amazement, she even noticed real bats flying around.

When Rosalyn had found her mother she told her how happy she was and jumped around her joy. Her mother laughed and led her somewhere by the hand. Her mother led her to the main hall where her mother had invited what seemed the whole city, including her friends and their party guests. She looked at her mother with joyous tears, her mother smiled back while handing her a costume of a knight she wanted.

The sound of Hay lying down behind her brought her back. She gasped slightly as she had dozed off and night had fallen on her while she did so. She revitalised the campfire as it was beginning to wither and set up her bedding. She made the mental decision to stop at the village that wasn't too far over the hills; she remembers one her tutors told her he came from there. She was sure she could get proper equipment for hunting and living life out here.

But her mind went quickly back to her mother's face on that Halloween; the face of kindness, love. She was going to do her proud, just like she has done.

The sun's piercing rays came too quickly, but work had to get done. She headed down to the lake and bathed; it had been quite a few days she hasn't done that. The water felt refreshingly cool, washing away dirt, cleansing small cuts and soothing the odd bruise or bump.

She returned to her camp to find everything put away neatly and organised; better than she did. She dropped her clothes and unsheathed her rapier, "Who's there!? Come out!" Her voice was firm. She did well to cover her fear, it was one of the first lessons she was taught.

Something appeared from behind a tree trunk.

She was shocked, but again she covered it.

"Hello, Rosalyn. How are you?" He spoke. His words seemed to have no venom in them, no scheming plans behind, but she knew to keep her guard up.

She looked at him, and how out of place he looked. His clothes were regal; dark, yet eye catching lined with silver. He did not wear shoes or gloves like the other Kings of Europe. He was one of a kind. He was the King of Slovakia and Czech Republic; he was known as Duke Wolf. His dark get fur covered his whole body, but only portions that could be seen were on his face and paws. He stood seven feet tall, easily towering over Rosalyn. He was quite intimidating; his huge body took up most of Rosalyn's view. How he managed to hide himself was beyond her?

"I am well, thank you Wolf. How have you been?" She replied.

"Can't say the same, to be honest. There's something I'm longing for, you see." He began pacing; Rosalyn watched wondered how his hind legs kept him upright.

"The news has reached you has it?" Rosalyn knew what he wanted, "Look, let's not play around here. The Cookies are not intended for you; you know that so don't expect me to hand them over to you."

He closed eyes, "I can understand that. Does not mean I will accept it."

"What are you saying?" Rosalyn tightened the grip on her sword. The air thickened significantly.

The duke laughed, "I'm not a fool, Rosalyn. This is not an ambush. I would not dare to cross swords with you. You are too much for me. But it is a warning: Give me the Cookies or it will only get worse."

"Worse? How so?"

"Reject, and you'll see. Accept, and I'll grant you anything you wish."

"Fine." Rosalyn sheathed her blade. She caught sight of a glimmer of hope within his eyes, "Wolf. I decline your offer."

It hurt for the Wolf to experience the harshness of rejection, just like everyone else. His amber eyes flared to life and glared at her. If it was anyone else that stared into those eyes while he was in this mood, they would have run away in tears and fear. But this Rosalyn he was looking at; she was a soldier, and a strong one at that.

She began to hear the low rumblings of a growl before his outburst, "Fine! It does not matter. But mark my words, Rosalyn. I will get those Cookies one way or another!" By the end of it, his snout was inches away from her face. With that, he left the away he came; silently and mysteriously.

Rosalyn sighed out all the fear trapped within her. The worst of the situation was over; he was gone. She quickly got dressed and waited for Hay to come back from his breakfast trip before moving on.

While she followed the hill path down, her thoughts could not escape the encounter with the Wolf. His threats replaying in her mind over and over. Wondering how bad things would get. The furthest she saw it going was war. That thought made her shudder as his warriors are said to be fearsome in sight alone, so she could not imagine their power on the battlefield.

She took a swig from her water pouch and tipped her red hood to block the sun so she could see in the horizon. The village was there. A sigh of relief as she wouldn't have been able to sleep easy tonight on the road; worry would've taken over her mind.

Then, something came to mind. She hadn't actually seen the Cookies for herself, what if they had already been taken? Anxiety swept over her and she quickly drove the horse to a stop and jumped off her carriage to check.

The carriage was large and well-built; it could easily fit eight to six people inside. Then she found the brown sack that she never opened or even touched before. As she held it in her hands she smelt the glorious aroma. She could feel her sense of reality was weakening and she hadn't even seen them yet.

Fear stopped it from going further. She placed them back in the chest they were in and put back where it was. She was scared of what could've done. She headed back to the carriage and took another swig from her pouch; this time much longer and needed. She could now see where the Wolf was coming from, but this only gave her more of a reason to stop him.

She arrived in the village later that day. She left Hay with the owners of a nearby stable and the carriage with the keepers of a Safe House. This gave her some time to sort out her own room to stay for the night and extra or better equipment for the journey ahead.

She went to her room and placed her new good on the floor before slumping onto the bed; she never imagined an inn could have such fluffy, comfortable beds. With that she dosed off out exhaustion.

"Ms Rose?"

Rosalyn stirred in her sleep.

"Ms Rose."

A hand softly shook her.

Rosalyn awoke is slight confusion. She didn't remember falling asleep at all, not was the sleep long enough. She looked around to see the owner of the inn leaning over her. She stepped back to give Rosalyn room as she came around.

"Good mornin', Ms Rose. There's some... folk outside t'see ya."

Rosalyn stumbled past her, not seeing the worry on the woman's aging face. She went downstairs to find three figures waiting for her; it took a while to see them properly as her eyes adjusted to morning light.

"Are you Rosalyn?" A deep, rough voice asked her.

"Y-yes." She said squinting.

"Duke Wolf sends his offer to you once more. Do you accept or decline?"

Upon hearing that her mood changed; she became alert and awake of her surroundings. She saw in front of her the three figures in detail. They wore the traditional armour of Duke Wolf: Dark purple plates framed with silver. Their helmets had each had a different snout shapes to them meaning none of them were human.

"I decline!" She declared knowing the next step that was going to be taken.

"Very well. His orders if you declined..." And without warning he swung his broadsword over his head and down onto her with the intention on cleaving her where she stood.

She simply evaded, the strike was sluggish and uncontrolled; the Duke was more ruthless than she thought. The armoured figures had attracted a small crowd, but now violence was involved it attracted more or less the whole village. She didn't want this; someone could get caught up in the fight.

Rosalyn was unarmed; however, she had trained numerous times without weapons and had a fair amount of experience. Plus, she had speed and dexterity on her side; she wondered if they even knew that.

She had rolled to behind the enemy. She scanned to see the armour was not the best armour by far; the Duke could have done much better. She could easily see the clips on which they were attached to their bodies. She took advantage; she unclipped them. She barely had time, however, as the first soldier to his right saw her move and was swinging his mace at her direction from the side: a foolish move.

The soldier's mace wedged itself into the back of his comrade's back; Rosalyn was gone before it was even close to her. He roared in pain and stumbled forwards, and as he did his armour slipped off. Rosalyn took her move; she struck him at the back of his exposed neck and he fell unconscious. The other two soldiers looked hesitant to attack her; one was frozen in guilt about striking his peer, the other one was just scared. However, now was his time to shine and plucked up all his shattered courage and went for the strike.

He charged with a roar that made the civilians gasp in fear; Rosalyn was unaffected. His spear thrust was well aimed with spot on timing; it just lacked strength and Rosalyn simply kicked the spearhead off the end.

With a blow of fear to heart, he retreated.

She realised she needed leave immediately, and not leave any evidence she was here. But to do that she needed the respect of the people; there was only one way to that.

She reached within her red cloak took out the Royal Medallion; only the leader of the country and heiress are to have one. She showed the crowd who gasped in awe upon realising who she was.

She spoke aloud for everyone to hear, "I, Princess Rosalyn, need your aid. Where is the leader of the village?"

A man came forward. Rosalyn recognised him as the last general of Poland's army and her teacher. She went over to him; she needed things done quickly, and there was no other man better for the job.

"I am here, your majesty." He said, bowing to her.

"Sir Phillip! I need my things and I need to tell everyone not to reveal the location of the red hooded girl. If someone in Poland does, they will be charged with treason. Please, the sake of the Queen." She became urgent. She needed things to happen fast.

She soon got what she needed. She was packed and ready to go. She decided not to tell anyone about the Cookies. This time she simple strapped them to her front; the Carriage and merchant idea only slowed her down. Everyone in the town also swore an oath of silence upon her secret as the Red Hooded Girl. Before the sun was set, she was off. She had sent the soldiers back to their Duke and tell him she declines his offer once more.

Now she decided to keep her identity under wraps. If people ask further she'll claim to be a mercenary; nothing more. She'll also keep the revelation of her face to a minimum.

Weapons. She also needed to be well equipped. Survival tools for all situations. She was going all out; she had to. She could tell that last attack was just the smallest scoop off the iceberg. She dreaded what else was going to come. She hoped to the goddess that he would not go as far as war with her homeland.

She rode on through the day. She was surprised at Hay's endurance; he was made for pulling carriages not running on a flat-out path. Her next destination was a city, the second largest in Poland; the first being the one that surrounded the castle. Then after that would be a long journey on the road before coming to the country border.

The need for rest, unfortunately, came sooner rather than later for both travellers. They sat next to of the many rivers that remained untouched by human hands. Hay drank from the river; Rosalyn sat on the back and did the same from her water pouch. Surrounded in her red hood, she stuck out like a poppy in a flowerless field, however you couldn't tell what or who she was from a first glance.

Rest was over, time for her to move on. As she did, as though someone timed it well, it began to rain, not lightly either. She cursed, but did nothing more and rode on...

The weather became reckless. The rain poured down, not stopping for anything. The path was becoming dangerous, but she had to push on. She had big things against her and she couldn't let those things catch up just because of a little rain. She realised a large river was coming up, she only hoped that rain had not come down too much to flood the river and prevent her from crossing.

She cursed. The river had over taken the bridge, but by only a little and therefore it can still be crossed. Rosalyn led Hay through, even though he put up a little protest. At first all seemed well; Hay's slow trot seemed to get the job done slowly but surely. However, the storm began to liven up. Lighting struck a tree on the bank Rosalyn was heading towards; its falling path would prevent her from crossing at all. He glared at her situation: Who was against her so?

Rosalyn urged Hay to go faster. He was going the fastest he could; the bridge was not made for hooves, plus the fact the bridge was underwater meaning there was a risk of falling into the river.

Hay, or what his rider often called him, felt the pressure. Lives were at stake, not just his own, but a human's too. What made it worse is that not only was she a princess, but she held with her the Cookies. Not ordinary cookies, the Cookies that were divine, heavenly... It was instinct to know that.

Apparently, not anyone can eat them. If someone who isn't meant to does so, it turns to ash in their mouth and the gods condemn humans for all eternity. However, this is all myth as it has never landed in the wrong mouth before so whether that's true or not is yet to be confirmed.

His mind had wondered. In some ways that was good, the pressure was gone for those moments. But he was nearly done, plus he could see the tree was falling and on fire. Urgency came about; Hay threw care away and ran for it a couple of step before leaping for his and his rider's life...

Rosalyn jumped from Hay's back and rolled.

"Hay! Noo!" Rosalyn reached out to her travelling companion. They were separated by the blazing tree. Not only has she lost a friend, but she lost her means of travel. Rosalyn wondered how she will survive without him. He often acted as her pillow; her comfort in the cold night. Her fingers would often subconsciously end up playing with his straw coloured mane. As she ran through the forest on its naturally made pathway, she realised how much she didn't appreciate him. She now began to treasure the memories of him returning from his meal or drink with an oblivious look on his horse face; the times when he would lick her face in the mornings to wake and her she would only thank him by pushing his face away and going back to sleep.

She was alone once again. She hugged onto her cloak; its brilliant red shine piercing through the storm's darkness and misery.

"There she is! Get her, boys!"

The scream of men came to her ears.

Rosalyn unsheathed her blade. She was ready to fight. And excuse to release the grief of losing Hay. Dark figures from the forest, they came onto the path, where it was slightly lighter. Rosalyn gasped.

"Men!? Why are siding with the Duke?" She exclaimed. Her arm wasn't ready to strike down a fellow man.

"Well, well, Miss Red. He paid us quite bit o'gold to take you out." Said the man that was visible. He was covered in scars and his clothes were rough and ripped; meaning only one thing.

"Mercenaries. Moral-less bastards who side with the person who pays the most." He tone was full disgust. She looked at him as though he was a rat that had come looking for food out of the gutter.

"That's one way to put it, fair lady." He chuckled.  
"Fair lady!? Do you know who I am?"

"Not at all. The Wolf Duke only told us you'll be wearing 'a red cloak that look as though it was made from the weaving god himself'. And that looks like it fits the description." He said pointing his unsharpened axe at her cloak.

"Very well. You shall die not knowing who or what your killer is." She said, seeing that their ways could not be swayed.

She charged and struck the handle of his weapon cutting it in two. Her rapier was now heavier and made for the offensive. Her attack was a signal for everyone to strike.

Let them, Rosalyn thought, more victims to fall to my blade. Your blood is on Duke Wolf's paws; he knows my capabilities.

One by one the men came and fell. Once every dozen, one would get close to striking her; however, they all died the same. After the majority lay lifeless and the minority had fled, Rosalyn sighed: She despised the idea of fodder.

"What next?" She said bellowed. Frustration building within her, "What else have you got for me, Wolf! May the gods hear this, I am ready to take it and strike it down!"

The rain had washed away all signs of blood on her clothes. Her cloak flowing gallantly behind her giving her the impression she was gliding over the land.

As she was dashing through the forest, things became a blur, everything was moulding into darkness. She began to lose sense of where she was going and she began to stumble. As Rosalyn fell, something struck her in the stomach making her fall to the ground. With the solid earth below her, her senses came back and pain pulsated in her stomach. She went to sit up, but something pounced on her and pinning her down to the ground; Rosalyn closed her eyes and endured.

"So, willing to strike down your own race, are you? You are despicable." The Duke Wolf loomed over her before sitting up take a rest on her abdomen; taking advantage of her weakness.

Rosalyn glared at him. If only the eyes could commit what the mind wishes; he wouldn't have a mouth

"What's this? You haven't got the energy to move? Are you well, princess?" He said playing with a feathered dart in his paw.

"Poison!? Cur!!" Rosalyn maintained the energy to talk and move her head.

"Tut-tut, I don't think you're in the position to name-call, wouldn't you agree?" His voice had the attribute of unparallel intelligence; something quite frightening for a human to hear.

"You dirty swine! No matter. As long as I don't give them, you have nothing; you are still at a disadvantage. Go on try and take them," She looked down at the brown satchel that lay on her breast, "They're in there. I bet you can smell their ethereal sweetness, their taste pure gold to the tongue."

The Wolf succumbed to her words and stared at the bag, slowly drawing closer to it. Suddenly he raised a fist and slammed it inches from Rosalyn's head.

"Bitch!" His eyes stared in hers. Shining with nothing but malice and schemes that were beyond her, "You'll see." His cool instantly returned with brush back of his mane, "I shall be going now, Princess. I don't want you to go soft on me all of a sudden, and I shan't do the same to you, agreed?"

He reached into his royal jacket and pulled out a blue vial, which he then smashed in his paw letting the liquid drip into Rosalyn's mouth; she instinctively swallowed. It liquid packed a punch in her throat and she coughed.

"There's a good girl. Now, I'll be seeing you." With that he sped off on all fours.

The effect of the antidote was quick. Rosalyn sat up in stared in the direction the Duke ran. She placed her hand on the sole bag she was carrying. Its warmth comforted her a little and set off again.

"Your name?" The soldier asked; his tone unnecessarily aggressive.

"Red." Rosalyn replied.

"I'm not thick, woman. Your real name?"

"Red." She repeated.

The soldier picked up she wasn't lying, "Alright then. Go on ahead. The leaving hours for today are 1pm to 3pm and 6pm to 8pm."

"Thank you." Rosalyn walked into the city. Her stay was to be brief; to refresh, to re-arm herself and perhaps hear any news of the current relationships between regions. Although she knew times were peaceful in terms of war, but the motives of the Duke often got her thinking and worrying.

After doing the first two on things on the list she had only one more and perhaps she could leave the next day. She headed to the tavern to eavesdrop and gather information. The condition of travelling and what else is important.

The tavern, as they all were everywhere, was full. Due to it being mid afternoon the mood was pleasant and generally happy as everyone was about to enjoy a grand home cooked lunch or was doing so already.

"Hello. How may I help you, miss?" The barmaid asked. Her kindness lightened up most people.

"Two milkshakes. Strawberry and banana, please."

"Right away."

Rosalyn sat at a stool and began to listen. She caught nothing interesting; the slight cut of milk prices, the rise of taxes this year, the large population of salmon there was compared to last year. With perfect timing came with her order and placed on front her, received the money and left. Rosalyn sipped her shake and relished the taste of fruity goodness.

However, a strange silence caught her attention. She noticed everyone had quietened down their conversation near to a complete stop. She looked around to find she was the centre of attention and as she did she noticed various wanted poster of a female figure with a bright red hood: Her, in other words.

She saw the glimmer of blades underneath tables, the tightening of fists. Rosalyn's hands were concealed and she quickly unstrapped her sheathed weapon; she did not want to kill them. With the spare hand and downed the rest of her strawberry milkshake while sipping the froth off the banana; she wanted a taste before it get caught in the crossfire.

She tried the easiest thing first. She thanked the barmaid and gave in her glasses before getting up slowly and trying to get to the door. As expected, two large men moved in front of the door before she got close. She turned to go back to her seat to find it was taken by a witty looking man playing with a dagger in her hands, staring her right in the eye.

"I see... This isn't going to end peacefully, is it?" She asked giving up on escaping.

"Not at all criminal. Committing murder? The Queen and the Heiress will have none of it. You'll be heading straight for the Purification Chamber." One of the men blocking the main entrance said, his body muscles looking as strong as his morals.

"I was attacked. It was self-defence, but I doubt you'll believe that." Rosalyn said realising the truth.

"Not at all," Said a young man behind her, his dagger to her throat.

He failed to get any further as something struck his hard in his groan and crumbled to the ground. She noticed all of them charge at once. She looked around to find a way out of the enclosing circle of violent looking people. She found a tall man and snuck through his legs before striking him down with her sheathed blade. She place was crowded and it was hard to dodge and evade, unlike last time. When people managed grab her, she was forced to use brute force; fists, kicks, elbows in faces, fingers in eyes, anything and everything she could use she did.

After what seemed an hour lasting scuffle, she threw one of the bigger men through the main doors and made her escape. She had done so by mere chance and was willing to stay and fight until she had proven her innocence to the people.

As she ran through the city streets, she caught eye of someone she never thought she would meet. Hay neighed at the sight of her began to ride alongside her. She hopped on and they dashed around looking for the way out. Rosalyn turned to find a mob behind her; with torches, pitchforks and all.

She glared at them. She couldn't let this be a hindrance; she had to push forward not back. She charged he horse though the crowd pulling away and arms and hands that tried to grab her. However, one over powered her and she fell into the crowd. The sounds of Hay's resistance dwindled into nothing. The many hands held her tight, and she could not break free. She closed her eyes and held onto herself as she roughed up by the crowd. Hope came in the sound of a roaring voice.

"What are you doing? She is to be set free!"

It was not long before strong hands, many times larger and stronger than the previous ones grabbed her by force and took her away. He handled with care she noticed and it wasn't long before she opened her eyes. A bear of a man was carrying her through the city. She sat quite comfortable in his arms; she could easily fall asleep in them and even turn.

"W-Who are you!?" She demanded.  
"Don't you worry about that, Ms Red. the thing we've got to worry about is getting you out of here. You... were wrongly accused." His rough voice reassured her and she let him do what he had to do.

He placed her down on the outskirts of the city. She looked to see he was a gargantuan of a man. Standing twice the size of Rosalyn; who was quite tall herself at 5'11". Then there were his muscles which looked like the size of men's heads. He was wearing the attire of a woodcutter; she was surprised to find they were still baggy on him. His rough, bearded face softened at the look of her face.

"I'm a curse on my family from previous generations. Well, that's what my father tells me."

"Forgive me, I merely shocked. No explanation is needed, you are still human. I know that from your actions, too." She smiled appreciation at him.

He blushed and looked away before turning to her; his voice serious all of a sudden, "I am here to tell you that you have been wrongly accused. A mere day before you arrived, a severely injured man returned claiming an evil woman hunted him and his travelling friends down. However, I noticed something wasn't quite right as hours before I saw him and his band making dodgy dealing with the wood-folk not so long ago involving large bags of gold coins." He spoke as though he was reciting.

Rosalyn couldn't help but express her curiosity, "Why are helping me?"

The reciting came to end for the woodsman, "W-well I thought, there's no way you... _you_ of all people could do such a thing."

Rosalyn looked slightly offended, "What are you insinuating, woodsman? Are you saying I _can't_ kill all those men?"

"Of course you couldn't have. You're a... a-"

"A woman!? Oh dear Fawns of Venus!" Rosalyn took in a deep breath, "Do you know who your country is run by?" She instantly remembered not to get too close to her identity and changed subject and tone, "Well, it's true. I did kill all those men. But, it was self-defence. They were mercenaries; the man lied because he lost out of some of his cash." She said, speaking assumptions rather than truth.

The woodsman made a decision right there and then, "Fine. Back to crowd with you." He said while taking a swipe at her.

She jumped back in evasion, "If you can."

The man's swipe was too powerful and it threw him off balance. He looked up to see her running off on horseback.

The next week was on the road.

To Rosalyn's dismay, nothing involving the Duke had happened; this caused more anxiety than relief. However, it never got boring as the woodsman still continued to try and catch her. She was always one step ahead or just that bit quicker and she left for dust on Hay's back. He had tried various strategies; night-time assaults, traps and lures, feint attacks and ploys. They all ended the same with her leaving a dust trail for him to inhale.

One night, while she was tending to some newly caught salmon and Hay was losing himself in some carrots Rosalyn had got him. The woodsman stumbled in tired, soaking in sweat.

"Alright, alright! I give in... Seriously... I can't go on. Are you even human?" His voice was hoarse, his breath were short and wheezing.

She could not help, but smile at the situation.

He mumbled something under his breath, her glare shut him up.

"Fine. The game is up. How may I help you?" She said plainly.

"I want to come with you." He quickly said.

She stopped at taking a quick sample of well cut salmon chunks, "Pardon?"

"I can't go back... I have involved myself with the criminal." He was looking down twiddling his thumbs, "... Please, I really want to travel with you."

Compassion filled her heart. How could she decline?

She retained her unemotional look, however, "Fine, fine. But, you must survive on your own when meal time comes. And you must run, I don't think Hay can carry you."

She noticed Hay shudder at the idea.

The man got on his knees and bowed, "Thank you! Thank you so much."

She felt her cheeks go red, "It's fine. Get up; you're messing up my bed."

He got up and stumbled across to sit next to her.

"Do you have a name?" She asked, chucking all of tonight's ingredients into a small manageable pot.

"Um, no... Most people call me Lumberjack." He said picking a couple of from the trees nearby.

"What about your father? Didn't he give you name?"

"No. He said that cursed shouldn't be given names, as it will stick to it and affect further generations. He often called me, Son." He stopped a brief moment, reliving the moments of him and his father.

Rosalyn looked and couldn't tell if they were good memories or bad. She tried not to let it get to her and carried on stirring her spiced salmon.

The next week was a lot better than expected. She enjoyed having human company nearby. Their meal times often ended in light, comforting conversation and comic memory sharing; though, Rosalyn was careful not to reveal too much.

That's it not to say it had it downsides. The Duke had a much more active approach this time around and was sending wave after wave of soldiers at her; both human and forest-folk. Their numbers and skill had been increasing, which was a worrying factor.

However, distance was on their side. By the time the soldiers had become quite a challenge they were less than half a day's trip from Germany, Poland's best ally: A safe haven.

They were both being careful; not to talk unnecessarily, no fires, no big meals, they couldn't even stay in one place for more than a few hours. They were being watched, they could both tell.

For the enemy, it was a matter of timing and patience; something that had been going on for the last three days now. As Rosalyn and Lumberjack ran on horseback and foot on the path, they began to hope they would lose their enemy on foot. However, their hopes were in vain as the enemy presented itself in front of them. Fully armoured, well equipped; nothing held back. Rosalyn and Lumberjack did the same; Rosalyn took out her quiver and bows and took out one of the five armoured folk in front of her. Lumberjack flung his axes and it embedded itself in the chest of a soldier; with a cry he fell to the ground.

Rosalyn dismounted from Hay and charged at the enemy in one swift movement. Lumberjack charged with roar; he still had immense physical strength and was still a fearsome foe without his axe. With his long strides, he reached the gang first. He did not wait and see what the enemy was planning and grabbed on the dark purple armoured soldiers and swung him around; attacking any that came near.

It wasn't long till Rosalyn joined the fray. Her offensive was not as reckless and picked off her enemies with stabs in places armour failed to cover; necks, shoulders, and leg joints. She constantly moving; if not to take one's life it was to save her own.

She saw another distracted victim to dispose of and went for the kill. Everything was right; power, aim, precision. Except what she didn't take into account was the enemies' eyes, as one of the soldiers grabbed the blade of her weapon. With bloody paws, the forest-folk tightened their grip on her weapon and swung it into the forest.

She cursed to herself before thinking of what to do next.

The soldier laughed a rough laugh, "What are you going to do now, little girl?"

The soldier had a good point; these soldiers were not the like the chumps back in the village. They had a major advantage over her now.

She had no choice, she had to retreat.

Rosalyn used her speed to escape the fighting, but it wasn't long before she was spotted.

"C'mon, boys, she's runnin' away."

"Hay! Lumberjack! To Germany!!"

The flat- out chase was on. Rosalyn jumped on Hay as he caught up, while Lumberjack had burst through the crowd and, with his long strides, ran alongside them.

Gate-watching.

Not the most interesting of jobs, but someone had to do it. It times of peace, the job requirements slowly changed from checking for trouble to talking, napping and on wild nights gambling and drinking.

Today was no different. Ryon, one of the many soldiers on Germany's western gate, had gotten used to staring into the horizon; watching the world slowly roll by. He was so accustomed to sitting there, head resting on the wall that he often let the little insects come close, entertain him briefly before they crawled over him as if he were part of the terrain.

However, one afternoon, something happened.

He saw people; well a woman and a giant. This caught his attention and he had to see if it was a giant. He reached for his binoculars, which had remained untouched for several months, and looked through.

"Mapel. Mapel, look a giant and woman in red are running towards us."

Mapel was preoccupied. Unfortunately, being a soldier was not in his interests. He often wandered into his own mind a remained there until his shift was over. He hummed to himself and laughed at memories long gone.

Today was no different. He had managed to climb atop of the wall and lay there. He stared at the sky; it made the wandering on memory lane just that bit easier. Ryon's cries brought him back and he was pleased when he arrived.

"Mapel! Look, Mapel." He kept his sight on whatever he saw.

Mapel peered and cursed to himself before jumping down and seeing the problem.

Mapel gasped, "What in Europe is that?"

"A giant, Mapel. I told you! They we-"

"Shut up, idiot. Tell Yumare to sound the alarm. This looks quite serious." He said as he snatched the binoculars out of Ryon's hands, "Tell him it's urgent, or he'll prance around all day."

"Yes, Mapel!" Ryon saluted.

He ran off into one of the gate towers and ascended up stone spiral stairs.

The man occupying was striking to the eyes. He wore a grand, gold lined blue silk cape. His armour was completely different from the usual soldier; it held exquisite designs and many samples of Germany's coat of arms. His hair matched his loud clothes as it was an eye catching autumn brown.

He stood in front of a canvas painting away at a scene that took place is his head.

Ryon ran in without knocking or hesitation, "Captain, sound the alarm! A giant and a woman are charging towards-"

The captain laughed aloud then spoke, "I am fully aware, Ryon. I foresaw it many days ago." He turned and faced Ryon before stepping aside and letting him see the picture. It was of a large human figure followed by a smaller one on a horse.

Ryon gasped.

Yumare chuckled to himself, "You see I am no ordinary human. I have been gifted with a portion of divine vision. The same vision that the gods themselves posses."

Ryon's amazement stopped at the picture. He was used to Yumare's way of turning anything and everything into a drama piece that should be shown in theatre. Not only in his speak in actions too.

Yumare went back to his art, "Fear not, young soldier. The king is fully aware and has sent troops to their aid."

Rosalyn pushed the horse to his limits. He fully understood why and did so. The soldiers were gaining on them. The ones that remained were forest-folk, stronger and faster than most humans. They ran on all four, meaning that had a speed advantage.

However, Rosalyn knew she couldn't lose now. She wouldn't allow it. She grabbed the cookies that remained in a satchel that was strapped across. She felt their warmth and strengthened her determination.

"Archers ready!" A voice commanded.

Rosalyn's ears caught the voice, "The German army!"

The Duke's soldier's caught Rosalyn's exclamation; their drive wavered. The German army was one of the best; their small group didn't stand a chance.

"Avoid the red hood girl. And... Fire!!"

Rosalyn looked ahead to find the sky suddenly swarm with deadly spines. Instantly, some of the soldiers on Rosalyn's tail fell back at the sight of the arrows, where as some drove on; determined to fulfil their master's wishes.

Those who did met a horrible fate; while for some it was swift and over before they knew it, while others were pinned to the ground; their life slowly leaking out of them.

It wasn't long before Rosalyn found herself being welcomed by the German army at the gates.

The person in charge looked as though he was about to speak before he was cut off by a dramatic soldier.

"Welcome, my fair lady, welcome. I am Yumare, the captain of the gate guards. A pleasure to be in your presence." He gracefully spun around before he grabbed her hand and kissed it in a swift movement.

He held in retaliation and accepted the kiss, "No please, Captain Yumare, stand. I should thank you for your rescue. Without your help, I'm sure I wouldn't be stand here right now."

The leader of the archer group came forward, "I was the one who helped you, my lady. You are to follow me to the king immediately."

She nodded, but after a few steps stopped, "What about my comrades?"  
"They can follow, too. They will wait in the foyer." Replied the leader.

Rosalyn found herself outside a mahogany, golf framed door.

She found herself rather nervous; she was shaking a little and breathing rather quickly. She had never met with the King of Germany before. She heard from her mother that he was a kind man, though his appearance said otherwise. She knocked twice.

"Come in."

She placed her hand on the handle, it opened the slightest force and the door silently opened.

"Good evening, princess." He didn't give her time to sit down before sitting. "You haven't got much time; so I'm afraid I must be quick."

Rosalyn sat down and looked at the King for the first time. He looked aggressive; like he was about to attack her at any time, but it was just how he looked. He didn't have the aggressive air about him; something Rosalyn was used to sensing. His rough, aging face consisted of a beard and quite a few scars; from battles she assumed. He wore homey, comfortable clothes; the sort a king was rarely seen in.

"I have to tell you your mother is safe and well. When she found out about the descent of the Cookies..." as he said that he eyed the pouch for second, "She took immediate action. She fled to Italy, to a place I don't even know. She told me to equip you for the Forest of France. And nothing more, I am not allowed to send men to your aid or any other form of help. Not even scouts just to see if you're well."

Rosalyn's mind raced with questions about her mother's motives; why could not the king help? If she knew it was coming how could she not have done more before she left?

Rosalyn cleared it away before she spoke, "I understand. I'd like to leave as soon as possible. Today perhaps?"

The King sighed, "I'm sorry, I'll have to decline that offer. Your mother also warned me of your hasty nature. She said I should let you leave the day after you arrive. No sooner."

From the room Rosalyn met the King she was led to meet with her companions. She told them the time they will leave; nothing more, nothing less. Afterwards she headed straighter for her sleeping quarters and stayed there for the rest of the night.

She didn't have much time enjoying the quality and comfort of royal sleeping quarters; she had to prepare for the next few weeks for they will be the hardest yet. Forest of France was completely different from any other forest in Europe. The forest was thick, wild. The forest-folk were smart enough to not inhabit this forest. She would have to request that Hay is sent to England by sea; traversing him through that terrain was impossible, or so she imagined.

Rosalyn watched the sky change is hues before sinking in a dark blue dotted with the eyes of the fallen. She was so lost in thought that she did not see sleep coming and cast its spell over her.

She jolted awake, as though she had just realised she was asleep and had to awaken. When she did, the sky was a fresh, crystal blue. The birds constantly flew by, checking up on her.

With amazing timing a servant came to wake her, "Madam, are you awake?"

"I am. I will be ready soon." She got up as if to show the handmaid she wasn't lying.

The morning had been scheduled before she had got there and everything went nice and smoothly.

She had been rushed through the breakfast and cleaning process, put into the not-so-pleasant fitting stages for her armour and weapons. She remember seeing countless faces with measuring tape and weights asking her, "Does it feel right?" and "Is this OK?" all of which she just replied, "Yes."

When all was ready she put in her request into the stablemaster. They both were not happy with the current arrangements, but it was something that had to be done.

Along the hallway she met Lumberjack, who looked as though he had been forced through the same process as her and, by the look on his face, did not enjoy it. However, once everything had been fitted on and everything was in place, Rosalyn thought she could take on the world.

"You are to head for the Northwest coast of France," The King spoke, his attire was now of a proper King; regal, divine and equipped, "From there you will see a vessel ready to carry you to England. The rest is up to you from there."

"I do, your majesty. Thank you very much." She said saluting.

He came down from his throne and placed her hands on her shoulders, "Be careful."

She looked up to find the kindness her mother was talking about; his eyes were soft as soft can be. He words were true; no man could claim he was lying.

She nodded and headed off; the gates of Germany closed behind her.

Her last haven behind her; she had to see it one more time.

Lumberjack stopped and waited for her, "Are you alright?"

Rosalyn back and nodded.

France was clear to see way before Germany's borders. It stuck out like a dark cloud on a clear day. Dark... Everything about that first was exactly that. Rather than fear it, she wanted to face it; challenge it and be the victor.

Before she knew it she was running towards the Forest whole heartedly: an amateur's mistake, running into the unknown.

Before she knew it, she was under attack.

"The Duke's soldiers! Rosalyn, look out!" Lumberjack's voice sounded distant.

She suddenly realised where she was and decided to take arms.

With a flick of her red hood, her weapon was in her hand and ready.

Two tiger-folk came at her; unequipped in any way. Taken back slightly, but she still faced them in battle. Their moves were quick, powerful. They relied purely on their natural weapons; claws, fangs, strength. She was now thankful she was well armoured, it now the only thing protecting her from grievous injuries.

The fighters separated; mutually fatigued.

One of the forest-folk spoke to her, "You're skilled. We don't have to kill someone of your status. Just hand over the Cookies." He offered an open hand.

Rosalyn was leaning on her sword for support, "What makes you think you can kill me?"

Taking that as a decline to their offer, the fighting continued.

Hay looked out of its only window.

The sea. He had never really seen it before. From distance, yes, but as close as this? No. Not at all. He didn't really like it much. It had a really weird smell, annoying birds that had a cry that would have driven anything insane eventually; he respected the humans for not cracking already. He only stuck his head out to get a breath of some "fresh" air; inside smelt like waste.

He wondered why the princess couldn't take him. If they were going to the Forest the then understood. His mother once scorned him badly just for playing on the outskirts of the Forest.

He sighed. His missed her presence...greatly. There was no point trying to cover it up with treasured childhood joys. He faced it and knew it'll pass.

With a bone crunching throw into a tree trunk, Lumberjack finished off the last of them.

"Red? You alright?" Lumberjack was cleaning of the mess of dying soldiers from his armour.

"I am. How about you? You took care of most of them, you sure you're alright?" She said sheathing her weapon. She was trying to calm down, difficult with adrenaline still coursing through the body.

After a moment's rest, they drove on. Running towards the entrance of the Forest; it's eternal presence just daring them to come closer.

The Forest crawled towards them, and slowly but surely it reached them. It was strange, that was such a clear line where the Forest started and where it ended. Rosalyn saw that the Forest wasn't scarce when it came to life. She could hear calls, cries, growls, the rustling of bushes just by standing at the entrance.

"Oh my... To think such a place exists." Lumberjack looked in shock; almost looking discouraged.

"They say that France was once a country; a kingdom as prosperous as Germany or Poland. However, one day they say the king disobeyed a direct command from Jupiter, the god of gods. As punishment and warning to those to those who try to do so again, they plunged his kingdom into life." Rosalyn stared straight into the Forest's darkness, seeing for herself that no amount of sun could hope to reach this place, "Let's go."

The trees took up almost everything. Their thick, dark trunks could be seen everywhere. They were also covered in a bright orange moss that Rosalyn got the instincts not to touch. The roots struck out of the ground causing walking difficulty and caused a few trip ups.

Over the next week, the traversing of the Forest was difficult and damaging; both to the body and to morale. Rosalyn's light armour often lead her to be pricked by thorns, and Lumberjack's heavy weight often caused him to sink into mud and another substance that wasn't too pleasant to the nose. Then there were the presence of other living things. Many times Rosalyn witnessed gleaming eyes, watching her from distance and biding time. One of the main reason the pair lacked sleep, the other being unsuitable terrain; the decided from a few experiences that they shouldn't touch anything until they absolutely needed to.

"How far do you think we've travelled?" Lumber said sitting on a dead, and thoroughly checked through, tree trunk; scooping out dirt from his boots by hand.

"I am not too sure. We've headed west continually for the past ten days, meaning we should be leading towards the centre of the Forest, which is signalled by large tree. The German king told me there was no way I could miss it..." Rosalyn trailed off as she looked at today's royal banquette; three slices of raw fish they had managed to catch and risked eating and two berries that had the bitterest kick she had ever tasted.

Times like these, her will weakened. It was getting so bad that not even the warmth of the Cookies, which remained close to her heart, were good enough to strengthen her resolve. She placed her hand on the small leather bag across her chest, but with doubt stress her mind, she placed her hand on his firmer than usual causing warm, comforting to rush from the bag and bless her nose with its smell.

And what a smell it was. The smell danced through her, causing a shudder to glide through her; a tingling of all her senses. The Cookies, they thanked her for her deed, lifted her down spirits and pointed her in the right direction.

She stood up and looked to the sky. It has remained a dark, deep blue ever since they entered the forsaken place, meaning telling the time was impossible.

She looked into the direction they had to go, "I think it's time we make a move Lumber -"

Suddenly a screech of ill intentions pierced their ears. Shadowy figures began landing around them.

The Duke's voice could be heard, but from where was unexplained, "Get those Cookies! If they resist, kill them!"

Bird-like humanoids entered from the shadows; wings on their back, razor sharp talons on both their hands and feet, as well as being heavily armoured. Rosalyn reached for her blade. Could she actually win?

Her attacks were not for the forest-folk, it was for the scenery. The pair has been there long enough to get some sort of knowledge of what sort of vegetation they have been living in. Rosalyn quickly slashed a bush and threw it in the face of an attacker who was close behind her. The leaves themselves didn't do anything, but she knew large leeches resided in the bushes. In this case she wasn't wrong as black, hand-sized slugs latched onto one of the bird's faces. It screamed as it frantically tried to rid the parasites of its skin. Lumberjack ripped a tree from the roots, and threw it on a crowd. Little did they know the moss that covered the bark causes the skin to flare up in painful boils and stiffens joints. The forest quietened down. The Duke's growls rumbled the air and shook the trees in their roots.

"Retreat! We head straight to England."

With that a sounds a fluttering wings came about. By the sounds of it they were severely outnumbered; why did the Duke hold back?

"Quick! To England!" Rosalyn and Lumberjack ran straight for the shore. The saw the middle forest, and headed north. It seemed never ending; with all the scenery looking the same and the colour of the sky remaining eternally the same. Enduring the harsh nature if the Forest of France, they ran on. With pierced armour, infected cuts, boils, leeches, minor poisons and the difficult terrain made it almost impossible to travel. However, with the knowledge that the Duke was heading straight to England by flight was enough to push them both beyond their standard limits. Eventually, the sun's blessing could soon be seen glazing the trees and vegetation. The sky's true hue began to show, making the world seem normal again from that hellish place.

Out of nowhere, pain kicked in Rosalyn's gut. It immobilised her legs from moving. She looked down, underneath her chainmail she could see a small piercing had become something much worse; puss leaked out as well as making the skin swell and turn green. To her shock, consciousness began to slip before her. Disappointment filled within her. She was so close; she could smell the sea from where she was... She could even hear the waves, before the sound of slow-beating heart overwhelmed it.

"Your majesty?"

The sound of a voice woke her. Her eyes stumbled open to see a fellow human she has never seen before. Her bore Germany's coat of arms proudly on his fine, heavy armour and a magnificent cape coated his shoulders. Rosalyn assumed her was Germany's general.

"Are you well, princess?" His voice carried worry.

"I am fine." She sat up, but to her surprise to pain came. She looked down to find just a mere patch where her injury was.

The general went on to explain, "The medical team tended to you. We were sent by the King to take you to England. When we found you, you were..."

Rosalyn got up and began to rearm herself, "How long have I been unconscious?"

"Several hours. In fact, we-"

"General! We're under attack!" Screamed a voice from above.

Before anyone could stop her, Rosalyn was off the bed she was resting on and onto the deck of the ship. Thick black smoke rising from the England's flat landscape. The grand castle of England can be seen on the horizon of England's entire coastline. It seemed that it remained untouched, meaning perhaps the Duke had not reached it yet: well, that was Rosalyn's hope anyway.

She also noticed she was surrounded in the whole German armada. What made things worse was that the Duke was attacking them with arrows and all the forest folk that could swim. None reached ship she was on due to archers taking care of any of the Duke's soldiers if they got close.

Eventually, they reached the shores and charged to battle. Rosalyn remained protected by a selected few, including Lumberjack and the General himself. They charged through, wiping out the petty that thought they could carry out a brave act.

When they reached the forests things calmed down greatly. They could rest and patch up wounds. However, Rosalyn remained impatient; she constantly paced and pushed the group forward. If something happened to her now, when she is so close, then she wouldn't forgive anyone.

They reached the castle grounds quicker than expected. It seems no form of battle was happening in the forest; the reason why was anyone's guess. The small party of seven ran across the newly mowed grass. Everything was eerily quiet; an all-out attack on the castle would have been more comforting than this. With little hesitation, they moved on. With a matching mood of the silence, all the doors were unlocked and, in some cases wide open welcoming visitors.

They soon themselves in the magnificent throne; grand in decor, size and wealth. There were a few gasps from the common soldiers that made up Rosalyn's protection group. Unfortunately, the awe was short lived as the Queen of England made an appearance; her face was dark and solemn.

"Grandmamma!" Rosalyn exclaimed. She ran towards her; her hand on the pouch ready to fulfil her duty.

"My dear Rosie... I..." The Queen's mood did not change at the sight of her grandchild.

When her grandmother was within arm's length, she held out the pouch. However, the pouch did not reach her grandmother's hands. Out of nowhere, the Duke ripped the Cookies from Rosalyn's hands, tearing flesh in the process. His sick twisted voice howled in laughter.

Everyone froze; too scared to move just in case the Duke did something with these divine objects.

Rosalyn had her weapon drawn, glaring at the beast she had now grown to detest. His plans had made a simple task a life changing experience.

"You think you've won? You think it is just plain sailing from here? You have not one, Duke. As long as the Cookies remain in this world and I am still standing, you have not won!" Rosalyn pointed her blade at the Duke. In a movement none of them comprehended, Rosalyn slashed the very bag the Cookies remained.

Everyone's breathing stopped. They dropped with a certain grace and fell to the ground. Before they made contact with it, small area of grass and small flowers grew and softened their fall. Their delicious, amazing small drifted through the room in almost no time. Everyone hung there, taking in the best thing that was going to happen in their lives. Rosalyn, with infinite determination, broke the immaculate hold of the Cookies. She took her chance and grabbed the Duke and threw him out the low standing stained-glass windows. He cries howled before ending abruptly, as if it was stolen. While Rosalyn still could, she picked up the Cookies with her bare hands.

Every feeling in her body, both known and unknown, erupted. She fell to her knees, unable to move due to enduring a euphoric state. But, she went on... she stumbled back to her feet and headed over to the Queen of England.

"Grandmamma... As a gift from the gods, I hand these to you." With that Rosalyn handed the Cookies to the Queen.


End file.
